Christmas at the Inn
by Circe-Asteria
Summary: Christmas is the time of miracles, lovers and happy endings. Perhaps a certain blonde bit of Sunshine can bring some happiness and a happy ending to Brian's life.
1. The Proposal

A/N - And this is how I decide to return to fanfiction. It has been years since I've written any fanfiction but once I ran across Queer as Folk on Netflix, I couldn't stop myself. And I have to see how this is received. No profit is being made on this.

* * *

Fucking carols. Fucking lights. Fucking reindeer. Fucking Christmas!

Brian Kinney flipped a passing minivan - complete with wreath and fake antlers - the bird and slouched down in the passenger seat of Cynthia's Jeep. This was not how he envisioned spending Christmas of 06. He was supposed to be with Justin in Vail, not driving down the highway to fucking Vermont with Ted, Blake, and Cynthia's off key renditions of Jingle Bells for company.

There was nothing he wanted more then to be snugged up in a snowed in chalet and wrapped around Justin for a week of uninterrupted bliss. Like Christmas of last year when they'd locked themselves into the loft and disconnected the phone, only venturing out for a few hours on Christmas Day. But no, Jen had to decide that Justin needed to be at some sort of family reunion deal instead of Vail.

Apparently Granny Smith, Jen's mother, was doing poorly and this might be her last Christmas. The family wanted to have one big get together; just in case the worst happened. The only problem was that the family still didn't know that darling Justin liked cock instead of pussy.

How Jen had kept that one quiet from the folks, Brian didn't know but he could understand why Jen had politely encouraged Brian to not attend the gathering. If Granny was doing as poorly as rumored, then seeing her oldest grandson sucking face with another man, as Brian had a newly developed holiday habit of hauling Justin beneath every sprig of mistletoe he saw, might just send her over the edge. Especially since she was still convinced that Justin was going to give her pretty great grand-babies.

It would be hard enough explaining Tucker, Jen had said, and that by throwing in the fact that Justin, the family wunderkind, was in a homosexual relationship with a man the same age as her lover that the entire family could stroke out. There was something screwy with this branch of the Smith family, Brian thought as he craned his neck to watch a passing sports car, since two out three of them were involved in May-December relationships. Three out of four, if one still considered Craig Taylor to be a limb on this particular branch of the Smith Family Tree. Brian was curious to see what Molly would do when her turn came around.

He could see her point but that didn't mean he was happy about it. He'd only recently embraced romance and intimacy and he wanted to experience it as much as possible. It was already hard enough with Justin in New York to manage this. He'd been looking forward to the cabin in Vail and now all he got was a Christmas meeting with a prospective client in fucking Vermont.

And now Ted had started in with his rendition of Silent Night while schmoopy Blake stared up at him. Why the fuck was Ted bringing Blake to a business meeting anyway? If the schmoop from the backseat got any worse, he was either going to vomit or kick the lovebirds out.

No, this was not how he'd pictured Christmas at all. Christmas involved Justin, a new bottle of lube and lots of nakedness. He'd also planned on candlelit meals for two, cuddling in front of the fire and whispered sweet nothings. No doubt, Justin would get wigged out after a while and demand to be fucked on or against every surface of that cabin. He'd be happy to comply with that order, as Justin was a world class fuck, but he actually wanted to romance the man. In fact, he craved it now that he'd freely admitted his affections. All of the bottled up emotions of their first five years were flowing freely now and he needed to make up for all of the times he'd treated Justin like shit.

It actually scared him, this need to romance Justin. He needed to know that his blond lover knew just how much Brian cared.

Admittedly, his grasp on the language of romance was still weak but he was learning. He just couldn't continue his education because Granny Smith was frail and some prick of a client wanted to meet in an inn in the ass end of Vermont. And, dear God, if there was one more gag worthy declaration of nose-rubbing "I love you's" from the backseat, he was going to tie Ted and Blake to the roof.

Brian sunk even lower in the seat and flipped off another minivan.

* * *

Nervous did not even begin to describe how Justin felt about what he was about to do. Everything up to this point had been planning but now that he was about to do it, he was as nervous as he'd been the first time he'd gone to the loft. Justin sighed as he thought of Brian. His nervous thoughts settled because he knew that this was the right time. This time, they were ready.

Cynthia's last message indicated that they were about an hour away from the Inn and that Brian was ready to strangle Ted and Blake. He owed those two a very big thank you for agreeing to keep Brian distracted. A very big, very special present was needed if Brian was threatening bodily harm. He'd have to think on it.

"Well, when is this man getting here? I have to check him out, see if he's good enough for my grandson before I just hand you over. It's not just about good sex, you know."

"Gran..." Justin groaned out the title, his face flushing. His Grandmother had taken the news fairly well, declaring that she's known he'd end up a homosexual since he was six years old and insisted on chasing the neighbor boys instead of their sisters. In fact, she'd taken the news about Brian a whole heck of a lot easier than the fact that Tucker was a lot younger than her daughter.

Once a mom, always a mom, Justin thought as he raked a hand through his hair. "They'll be here in about an hour if the weather holds up, Gran."

Granny Smith nodded and toddled her way back to the lobby fireplace and the coffee laced Irish whiskey she had over there. If her Grandson thought he could just up and be with anyone without her approval, he had another thing coming. Jen had told her a thing or two about this Brian Kinney and she wasn't all too convinced that he was the right man for her Justin. Then again, was anyone good enough for her talented, strong willed grandson?

And what about this Tucker? She shot a glance at her daughter and the young man she'd brought along. He was too young for her, even if he lifted the dark cloud that had been over her head since the divorce. Oh, don't get her wrong, she was glad that Craig Taylor was out of the picture. That fuckwit had never been good for Jen but she'd been young and convinced that it was love.

By all accounts, this Brian Kinney had something to do with the divorce. Maybe it was just that his relationship with Justin had been the catalyst that finally cracked the weak marriage of her daughter. Granny glanced at the clock; fifty minutes till this Brian Kinney sauntered through the door.

Forty-five minutes until show time. Justin signaled Emmett to start ushering everyone away from the public areas of the Inn. Brian was supposed to be coming to the Inn to meet a client. If he saw friends and family hanging around, he'd know that something was going on. He watched, smiling, as Melanie corralled JR while Lindsey pulled Gus away from the stacks of shiny presents.

It was Christmas Day and the little boy wasn't quite sure why they hadn't opened presents yet. Momma said that they had to wait for the guest of honor to show up before they could open presents. Gus was quite sure that Momma didn't know what she was talking about. The guest of honor had clearly already been here because there were tons more boxes and bags then the night before. Santa had come already so why couldn't he open his presents?

This had resulted in a spectacular meltdown that could only be delivered by a cranky child in an embarrassingly public place. It wasn't until Justin had picked up the sniffling, red faced, and thoroughly miserable little boy and explained that the guest of honor was Gus' daddy that the boy settled down. Justin had a very special present to give to Daddy and that couldn't happen until he got here. Once he got here and once Justin gave the present to Daddy, Christmas could begin. That had satisfied the boy but they still had to wait forever and ever for Daddy to get here. Gus was pretty sure that Christmas was going to be over before Daddy showed up.

Once the sitting room had been cleared out, Justin jogged up the stairs to the suite that had been reserved for him. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't set a scene. Brian thought he was coming to Vermont to meet a possible client for Kennetik, not an encounter with his partner. He snickered; if Brian knew Justin was here, he'd have broken the sound barrier to get here. As it was, according to Cynthia when she'd first checked in a few hours ago, Brian was doing a remarkable job impersonating both The Grinch and an invertebrate creature at the same time. Apparently Brian's Christmas plan had not included being pulled from his Sunshine-less loft and hauled to Vermont while being forced to endure the schmoop of Ted and Blake and he was letting everyone know that he was not amused.

Justin paced the darkened sitting room of his suite; the nerves were back and making his stomach jump and twist as he ran through what he planned to say. This was perhaps the most important speech he'd ever make. Everything had to go just right and even if everything was perfect, it could still go all wrong.

With twenty minutes till Brian would even be arriving, Justin checked his appearance and fluffed his hair. God, how he missed being with Brian. Missed waking up with him. Missed arguing over Thai or Chinese takeover. Missed lazy, rainy Sundays at the loft. He missed Brian's charm, his snark and his well hidden caring side.

And, if he was going to be honest with himself, he missed the 24/7 access to the best sex he'd ever had. Even at its worst, sex with Brian was better than the best tricks. With any given trick, the process was mechanical and the release was just to scratch the itch - which inevitably came back because the tricks were mediocre. With Brian, he went longer and came harder. Over the years, they'd learned the spots that drove each other wild and the techniques to reduce the other to begging. For example, not a single trick knew that a little teeth-and-tongue action to his earlobes could drive Brian wild, more so then the hottest blow job or tightest ass. Justin had used that information to distract his lover once or twice. And no one knew that if his neck was bitten at just the right spot, Justin could come on the spot - Brian was sole proprietor of that tidbit. The bastard has done it to him out on the floor of Babylon more than once.

Justin knew what Brian's arguments would be. He needed to be in New York for his art. Well, fuck New York and fuck his art. Both were dull and done in monochrome colors without Brian there. Justin knew what New York could do for him and his art now but he didn't want that as bad as he wanted to be at home with Brian.

When he heard the sound of a car crunching over the snow, Justin peered out the window. There was Cynthia's Jeep pulling to a stop at the Inn. He watched as first Cynthia popped out of the driver's side of the SUV. Justin chuckled as he watched as Brian practically oozed out of the passenger side. He did not look happy, at all.

* * *

Brian peered up at the front of the Inn. He raised a single eyebrow as he took in the Christmas decoration bedecked converted house. How quaint, he thought as he followed Cynthia into the lobby. While Cynthia handled the details, Brian turned in a circle to take in the way the lobby was decorated. Comfortably shabby furniture was clustered around the fireplace while a large Christmas tree was prominently displayed in front of the main windows. It sparkled with old ornaments and lights. Defiantly not like any Kinney family Christmas but it reminded him of the way the Novotny's celebrated. His mood lightened a little.

"Mr. Kinney? I've put you up in our best suite. Mr. Walsh called a little while ago; he's running late. The snow, you understand. If you want, you can go up and rest. I'll be sure to call up when he arrives," the young woman behind the reservation counter said, "The room is on the third floor. 302 is on the left.

Brian nodded and took the key the woman handed over. "That would be fine. Can I get a bottle of Jim Beam sent up, by any chance?"

"Of course, Sir. I'll have one of the boys from the bar up with a bottle shortly."

Brian smiled at the girl and turned for the stairs. There was no need to be rude to the girl as she wasn't the reason he was here. That reason, one Mr. Walsh, was the reason and he couldn't even be bothered to show up on time. Brian took the stairs, every second that Walsh was late counted against Brian taking him on as a client. He easily found his room and unlocked the door. He pushed the door open and just stopped.

Suddenly all thoughts of Mr. Walsh, advertising, and Ted's soon-to-be death vanished. Justin was across the room, standing in front of the windows and smiling at him. Brian had enough mental power to kick the door closed before rushing across the room and engulfing Justin in a tight embrace. He didn't say a thing; he just held Justin tight, hands fisting in the fabric of the younger man's shirt. After a moment, Brian pulled back and framed Justin's face with his hands. "What the fuck are you doing here? No, wait, I don't care what brought you here. You're here," he said before kissing his lover, hard.

Justin managed one quick smile before returning the kiss. He hadn't seen Brian since Thanksgiving the previous month. They'd spent most of their time together in Justin's apartment, only going out to eat Thanksgiving dinner at The Breslin. Their time together over the holiday had been short lived; Brian had to return to Pittsburgh to oversee the release of the slew of holiday ads done for his clients. For Justin, the days following Brian's departure had been miserable. It had been near impossible to say good bye this time and he'd moped around the apartment for days. He had decided that he could no longer remain in New York and had started planning how to fix things.

The two men clung to each other, kissing with a frantic need to be one person. Only a knock at the door stopped Brian from walking Justin back to the nearest solid surface. He broke away, cursing. "Fuck, the Beam," he said, "don't go away, Sunshine. I'll take care of this real quick and then I'll come unwrap you."

Justin rolled his eyes at Brian's back. While Brian was involved in trying to hurry the waiter along, Justin hurried to set the rest of his plans into action. After shutting the door, Brian turned around, the bottle of bourbon clutched in his hand. He stumbled a bit as he watched Justin hitched his jeans up before lowering himself down to one knee. "Justin, what the fuck are you doing?"

Justin grinned as he cracked open the polished wooden box. Inside, the rings from the previous attempt at this were nestled in velvet. "I still can't believe that you have never thought to return these. Emmett declared that he was risking his life in smuggling them out of the loft for me. Nearly two years ago, you asked me a very important question and I said yes but we weren't ready for marriage then. You were affected by the dreaded Stepford-fag syndrome, trying to be who you thought I wanted you to be. And I needed to go to New York to see where my art could take me. In the time since, there's been no reoccurrence of the dreaded syndrome. And I've seen what New York could do for me but I cannot go on in New York. I can't keep going without you. Brian, you said that New York would make me a big, fat fucking success. Maybe it can but without you, whatever I paint is no better than a kid's scribbles. It's just paint splashed on a canvas. There's no emotion. So, this time, I'm asking you. Brian Kinney, will you marry me?"

Brian stared down at Justin. For a moment, his mouth just moved with no sound coming out. He coughed, clearing his throat before setting down the bottle of bourbon. His heart was thumping, his mouth was dry and he almost felt as if he couldn't breathe. "Justin…"

"Brian."

"We once said that our separation was just time. You said that we didn't need rings or vows to express how we felt about each other. What changed your mind?"

"Time changed my mind. Vows can be broken and rings can tarnish. My mind hasn't changed; I still think that rings and vows aren't needed between us. We've never had a standard relationship by the standard norms of society, even in the gay community. I'm not saying that we should marry because that's what everyone says we need to do after between together for seven years, more or less. I can't do it anymore, Brian, I can't keep saying good bye to you. I want to come home to where my family and friends are. I want to say good bye in the mornings and welcome home in the evenings. I want to be able to declare my love for you without people giving me that look that says "You've been together for seven years but have no sort of commitment and you actually moved away?" If wearing rings and exchanging vows are the way to do that, I want it. I don't expect monogamy but I just want people to know that we hold each other's hearts."

Brian swallowed and moved to kneel on the floor in front of Justin. "Well, then," he said while reaching out to stroke his fingers down the curve of Justin's cheek. "I suppose my answer would have to be yes. Yes. I will marry you."

Justin smiled that sunshine smile of his and leapt at Brian, hugging and kissing him. "Now, second question," he said between kisses.

Brian groaned. "There's more?"

Justin laughed. "Yes, there's more. How do you feel about marrying me, right here and right now?"

Brian blinked and then he tipped his head back and laughed. "There is no Mr. Walsh, is there? You little shit, you arranged this, didn't you? Is Granny Smith really doing all that poorly?"

Justin shook his head. "Yes, yes and no. So, can we have a wedding today?"

Brian, smiling so hard that it hurt, nodded his head and pulled his Sunshine in close. "Yes, Brat. We can marry today. Right here and right now."

Both men groaned when Debbie's voice could be heard from outside the room. "It's about fucking time you made an honest man out of Sunshine, Asshole!"


	2. The Talking

Note: Please note that updates from me are sporadic. I write when I can, which is mostly during my breaks at work. Thank you to everyone who responded to the first chapter and I hope this second one lives up to it.

* * *

Justin couldn't help it; he laughed at Debbie's comment. "Yes, I finally get to be the other Mr. Brian Kinney," he said with a smile, "Now, someone go and find me a minister! I'm not letting him get away this time!"

"Your Uncle Phil will do it or I'll know why," Granny Smith said before toddling towards the hall, shouting for Phil to get his lazy ass upstairs to marry her grandbaby.

Brian blinked at the old woman. "That's the formidable Grandmother?"

Justin nodded. "Mary Ellen Smith, my mom's mother. She wants to interrogate you. Needs to make sure you are good enough for me."

Brian raised an eyebrow as he watched the woman snatch the bottle of booze from the table. "I'm good enough for you. Haven't I done wonderful things for you?"

"You have," Justin agreed, "but you aren't her favorite grandchild. You're just the man who defiled her precious grandson with his wicked ways. You led me down a path of sin, you know, and taught me immoral things."

"Pretty sure all I did was show you the path of sin and you ran down it all on your own, dragging me behind."

Justin shrugged. "You say tomato. She says tomahto."

"And she's okay with the whole marrying a guy thing? Someone led me to believe that it might cause her to stroke out."

"Apparently, when I would visit during the summers as a kid, I would chase the neighbor boys instead of the neighbor girls. She decided that she'd have a gay grandson when I was six but didn't clue the rest of us in. She's more concerned about the age difference and that you have some questionably loose morals."

"One could argue that you've inherited some of those loose morals."

"Favorite grandchild. Can do no wrong," Justin said with a grin. "Play up the fact that Gus is your son. She likes Gus. She might be more inclined to like you if she knew she was getting an unquestionably adorable great-grandson as part of the bargain."

Brian watched as the woman cracked open the Beam and poured some into a glass. He swallowed when she fixed her gaze on him and crooked a finger. "She wants to question me now?"

"It will take Uncle Phil ten years to get up these stairs. It will give her time to decide if you can join the family. And, if need be, give us time to escape out the window if we need to elope. I mean it; not letting you go this time. Now, go talk before she comes over here," Justin said, bumping Brian with his hip.

Brian slowly approached the old woman. Honestly, he didn't know what to do with grandparents. His own parents had never been keen on visiting either set of their parents and Deb's had passed on long ago. Grandparents were a strange entity to him, sort of like leftovers left alone to develop their own conscious.

When Granny Smith pointed at the chair next to her, he obediently sat down. "Mrs. Smith," he greeted her and tried not to fidget. He felt like he'd been called into a school principal's office.

"Well, Justin was right about one thing; you are quite a looker. He says you're the right man for him but others have said some things that make me worry. Drugs. Sleeping around. Sinful behavior in general. You almost married my boy once before but didn't. What makes you so sure that are good enough for my little Sugar Dumpling?"

Brian snickered at the nickname and at Justin's cry of "Gran!" but straightened up when he caught sight of Granny Smith raising an eyebrow. He coughed, clearing his throat. "I'm not going to apologize for how I've lived my life, if that is what you are after. Do you really think that anything you say or do would stop this marriage?"

"I think I can put my two cents in. I didn't when Jennifer married that Fuckwit Craig and look how that's turned out. However, Justin is an adult and can make his own choices by why you? According to the screechy one, you don't do love or marriage or monogamy."

Brian didn't have to ponder who the screechy one was; Michael probably hadn't wasted his time on expounding his vices. "Michael sees what he wants to see. Do you think we could take is conversation elsewhere?"

Granny Smith narrowed her eyes at him. Justin had said that discussing emotions didn't come easily to this man. She doubted he'd want to talk about his emotional relationship with her Grandson where just anyone could listen in. "All right, room across the hall is empty. We'll just go over there for a little chat. Go tell Sugar Dumpling that I promise I won't chain you up in the basement."

Brain watched as the woman stood up. She snatched up the bottle of Beam before heading towards the door. He moved over to where Justin stood with his mother. "I'm just going next door to have a talk with your grandmother, Sugar Dumpling. She says she won't chain me up in the basement but we can explore that idea later."

"Call me Sugar Dumpling again and I'll chain you up and leave you to rot. Have fun," Justin said with a smile. He kissed Brian's cheek before waving him off.

* * *

This had to be the worst idea in the whole history of bad ideas. A man like Brian Kinney didn't do marriage. Kinney was the hero; the stud of Liberty Avenue. Men and women worshiped him and were in awe of his "no-fucks-given" lifestyle.

Men like Brian Kinney weren't supposed to be tied down by the rules of marriage. He was living the dream of thousands. Michael snorted as be watched Brian trot out of the room behind Taylor's tottering grandmother. He switched his gaze to the other groom, perched between the mothers. Justin was beaming under the attention of Deb and Jennifer. Michael rolled his eyes.

The two men had tried this marriage thing before and look how that had turned out. Michael muttered under his breath about how this was bound to fuck something up.

Behind him, Emmett Honeycutt raised an eyebrow and stopped poking at the antique chest of drawers he'd uncovered in the corner and turned to look at Michael. He'd heard what the man, slouched down in his chair and scowling, had said. "What was that?"

"I didn't say anything, Em. I just made a noise; this chair isn't comfortable."

"Odd. Could have sworn you said that this wedding was going to be a fuck up," Emmett said while pulling open a drawer and peeking inside. "I, for one, am thrilled that Romeo is finally marrying his Juliet."

"I hardly think this is worthy of Romeo and Juliet, Em. You know that this won't last and I'll have to pick up the pieces when Justin leaves."

Emmett blinked. "And why would Justin be leaving?"

"Because he always leaves! Things get a little tough and he just takes off instead of dealing with them like a grown man. If this farce of a marriage doesn't go how he wants, he'll either force Brian to change or leave. You saw what happened last time, Em."

"What happened last time was the result of the bombing. We all did stupid things following the bombing. Brian changed on his own, trying to be what he thought Justin wanted. They rushed into the idea of marriage because they were scared. "

Michael crossed his arms over his chest and slunk down farther into his chair. "I didn't do anything special. I just didn't die."

Now, Emmett raised both eyebrows and came around to sit in the chair opposite of his friend. "Really? And what do you call that phase you went through after Babylon was reopened? That whole drinking-drugging-dancing-fucking spree you went on that didn't stop until Ben threatened to leave you? That was special. An especially stupid thing to do. Even Brian thought that."

"We aren't talking about me."

"No, just this idea you have about marriage between Brian and Justin. Michael, they have been together for years. And they're still going strong, even managing a long-distance relationship for a year and half," Emmett said as he stared at Michael.

"What relationship? They fly back and forth to fuck each other. Fuck-Buddies don't have relationships," Michael said while glaring across the room at Justin.

"If all Brian wanted was a fuck, he has his pick of asses to play with. He goes to New York once a month in order to spend time with Justin. Honey, face it, they have a relationship that is strong and what works for them isn't what works for most people. I don't know why they've agreed on marriage now but it something they want."

Michael turned his head to stare at Emmett. "Em, marriage is about commitment and monogamy and honesty. How do Brian and Justin fit in with any of that?"

"That's how your marriage is defined, Michael. Who can say how those two would define their marriage?"

* * *

Mary Ellen openly stared at the man sitting across from her. As far as looks went, her grandson had found a real winner. Even when grumpy and travel rumpled, this Brian Kinney made quite the aesthetically pleasing picture. She imaged that he cleaned up quite nicely but looks were only the surface of a person. In the last day, she'd heard plenty bad about the man across from her. "All right, Mr. Kinney, we're alone. What's on your mind?"

Brian poured himself some of the Beam and downed the shot in one go. "I know I'm not the best for Justin; there are probably thousands more out there who can do a better job than me but he's what I want. Have you ever wanted someone so bad that you'd do anything, be anyone for them?"

Mary Ellen nodded. "My sweet Johnny. I wanted him like crazy."

"I thought your husband was named Edward. At least, that is what Justin has always said."

"The man I married was named Edward. He wasn't the man of my dreams. I had to settle for him after Johnny went away to war and never came back to me. It almost destroyed me. I know that you can finically provide for Justin but the rest? As I said, I've been led to believe that you don't do marriage."

"Children learn by example. The only example of marriage I had growing up was my parents and they didn't have a healthy relationship. I wanted to avoid everything associated with relationships and marriage."

Mary Ellen nodded and poured them both a shot. "Justin said that both your parents should've been shot. I assume life wasn't easy growing up?"

"No Ma'am."

"Don't you Ma'am me, young man. I'm not that old. Now, what was it that made you change your mind two years ago?"

"You know about the bombing?"

Mary Ellen nodded. "I know all about that. It is quite disturbing to have your daughter call you to say she'd been involved in the bombing that was all over the news but was okay," she narrowed her eyes at Brian. "Was that Tucker character there as well?"

Brian rolled his lips for a moment before nodding. "Yes. He was there. I believe that they just begun seriously seeing each other around that time. Is Jennifer in trouble?"

"I haven't decided. So, the bombing?"

"I thought I'd lost him for a second time. I'd thought that this bright, charming, smart young man was gone from my life for a second time."

"Jennifer said you two were separated at the time?"

"We were but we still saw each other all the time. I wouldn't give him what he wanted so he moved out. When the bombing happened, I was scared that I'd lost him for good. I was scared into giving him everything I thought he was after in order to keep him in my life. Marriage. Commitment. Monogamy."

"But you didn't marry?"

"He needed to explore his art. I needed to get my head back on straight."

"And now?"

"I want him. I want to be near him every day. I fuckin' hate flying back and forth in order to have a day here and there. He…he gets me and understands me. I don't know if a marriage between us will work but it's more than a ring or a piece of paper that declares a union. It's a statement. It says that he's the only one who truly matters. I'd take him over my family, my friends, or my businesses. The only other one who matters like that is Gus. Mrs. Smith, please believe me that I'd do anything for my boys and that I honestly want this. I want to call Justin Husband."

Mary Ellen poured another shot and swished it around. She contemplated the liquid before tossing it back. "All right, you have my blessing. I suppose I should see what's taking Phil so long. I swear that man is lazier then a slug."

Brian watched as Mary Ellen toddled out of the room. Blowing out a breath, he ran his hands through his hair and laughed. He supposed he should get back to his husband-to-be. He took a moment to collect himself before jogging back across the hall. He went straight to Justin. "That's what you're going to wear to our wedding?" he said while looking Justin up and down.


	3. The Guidelines

Disclaimer: I don't own this show or these characters. I just like playing with them.

A/N: Still alive. Not only did this chapter give me issues, but Real Life showed up in the form of a Cross-Country Move and I've only recently started to really settle in.

* * *

Justin looked at his slacks and the button down he'd put on that morning. "Yep. Is that what you are going to wear?" he asked, pointing a finger at Brian's clothing.

Brian stared down at his own aged, long sleeved t-shirt with its frayed hem and his worn out jeans. "I suppose I could have put some effort into looking nice if I'd only had some warning about today's schedule of activities."

Justin grinned. "Got it covered. You should give Cynthia a raise," he said while opening the door a crack and calling for Brian's luggage. Once the suit bag was handed over, Justin shut and locked the door.

Brian gave the bag a dubious look. "I should have known something was up when she broke into the loft this morning and started talking about emergency meetings in the next state over while raiding my closet."

Leaning against the bathroom counter, Justin grinned. "She and Ted have been in on the whole thing. Something about how you're nicer when you get a truly excellent sexual experience. They've been keeping track; you threaten to fire less people after I've sucked on your dick for a few hours."

Brian shook his head while looking through his suit bag. "I should fire the both of them for conspiring to kidnap me but I suppose they are right. I am nicer after a few rounds of you."

Justin's grin upped in intensity at the praise. "Just doing my part to keep the employee morale up at Kinnetic. I should get some sort of kick back for my services."

Brian pulled a red shirt from the bag and held it against his chest. "You do get a kick back. My dick up your ass in exchange for the services you offer in improving employee morale."

"So, let me get this straight. My reward for giving you a blow job in your office every couple of months, thus improving your mood and lessening the fear your employees have of you is that I get fucked?"

Brian tossed the shirt aside, proclaiming it too Christmassy. "Got it in one, Sunshine. Everyone benefits. I get off, thus I don't fire my entire HR or art or accounting department, thus I'm in a good mood and eager for a marathon of fucking and sucking you later on, which gets you off and causes endorphins and you feel good enough for more. Lather, rinse, and repeat."

"I see your point though I still think I should be on the payroll or something."

"I can just imagine trying to explain that to Ted," Brian said as he pulled his tee off. "What about this one," he asked while shaking out a shirt.

Justin stepped up behind Brian once he had the button down on and smoothed out the shoulders. "Black's always been one of your best colors," he said before tugging on the collar.

Brian watched Justin's reflection as the younger man tugged at the collar points. "Exactly how long have you been planning this reunion?"

"About a month now. I enlisted my mom, Ted, Cynthia and Ben to help out."

"What did Ben do?"

"He kept Michael in the dark about this. You know that if he knew, Michael would be crawling all over you, whining about it and we'd risk you being infected with the Stepford Fag Syndrome again."

Brian smirked as he buttoned the shirt. "Glad we avoided that. So, Sunshine, what are the rules?"

"Rules for what?"

"Our marriage."

"Oh, those kinds of rules. We've never been good with those. I'd say we should only have two rules. The first is that we actually communicate. And the second is no tricks at the house. Everything else is like, I don't know, guidelines?"

"Guidelines for marriage?"

"Why not? Rules have never exactly worked for us. You know, we communicate with each other, we don't bring up past mistakes, we support each other in all things. We make this work according to us and we don't let others dictate our paths based on their ideas and expectations."

Brian turned to lean against the vanity counter. "Okay. What made you do this now?"

"I'm sick of everyone going, 'oh, so you're not really a real couple then, are you' when I tell them about us."

"You want to marry so we can be declared a real couple?"

Justin sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "It's complicated. For a bunch of artists, the people I live with are remarkably closed minded."

"Ah, the open relationship issue."

Justin nodded. "We're each other's booty call, apparently. Because I have free rein to sleep with anyone, same goes for you, while living in New York, it can't possibly be a real relationship."

"The course of our relationship is nobody's business but ours. We don't have to marry just because people don't get us."

"It's not just that."

"Oh?"

"Okay, yeah it would be great to shake my ring in their faces and say that my open, long distance marriage is more stable then September's on/off relationship with the sleazy cheater or Tom's online relationship with a girl who lives across the country and sounds too perfect. You ask me, she's probably some 50 year old hairy bastard and Tom deserves to get what's coming to him. He makes it sound like she's some sort of reincarnation of Mother Theresa. I mean, come on, what sort of wo-"

"Sunshine, focus. The reason you want to marry me besides one upping your roommates?"

"Huh? Oh, right. Before New York, that wedding was a reaction to the bombing. We rushed into it. One minute, we weren't together and the next we were engaged. Everyone reacted differently to the situation. Look at the girls; their fleeing to Canada turned out so spectacularly bad that they came running back to the Pitts within a year.

"Neither of us were ready to jump into marriage then and this whole New York thing offered us a way out. I've been in the city for what, two years now?"

"Just about."

"Don't get me wrong, I love New York, it has this exciting sort of energy and something is always happening but I went there to paint. Between working two jobs to afford my share of the rent and the rent on the studio space, not to mention all the supplies and food, I barely have time to paint. I've talked to people; they all say that I have talent but I need to have the time and space to focus. I had one guy tell me that if I'm not careful, the city will swallow me whole.

"And I'm tired of scheduling my visits for a weekend here or there of whenever I can get two consecutive days off from both jobs. I miss my family. I miss randomly dropping in on Deb and having lasagna forced on me. I miss trips to the park with Gus. Molly is dating now and I'm not only missing out on teasing her about it but I can hardly be the big brother from New York. For fucks sake, I missed my mother's birthday because I couldn't get the time off and no one was willing to trade shifts."

"So, why not just come home? How is marriage going to solve any of those problems? You know that I'm willing to support your career."

"I wasn't done. Yeah, coming home would solve all those problems. I'd be around for my mother and sister and all the others. The only problem with coming home because I miss everybody is that people would start whispering about how I've given up and can't hack it in the big apple. Lindsey has already started in on me about it. I've talked with other artists in the city. They've all said that if they'd had the kind of support system I've got rooting for me, they'd probably still be in their hometown, waiting tables while working on their art.

"Forgive me for saying this but marrying you would give me a valid reason for coming home. In any long distance relationship, if it makes it, eventually someone is going to give something up in order to be together. I miss you. I miss just being around you. Yeah, living with the Great Brian Kinney isn't easy but its where I want to be. And, oh my God, now that I'm actually here and saying these things to you, I can't believe how stupid this all sounds."

Silence reigned in small bathroom for a few seconds before Justin huffed out a sigh and rubbed at the back of his neck. "This was a stupid idea. I'll go tell everyone that we changed our minds again."

Brian caught Justin by the upper arm and pulled him away from the door. "Now, just hold on, Sunshine. I agree that we were ill suited to our previous attempt at a wedding but I still think we are suited for marriage."

"Huh?"

Swallowing a laugh, Brian folded his lips under while looping an arm around Justin's neck. He pulled the younger man closer to him. "Remember after the club was bombed and the words I told you? I still mean it."

"Yeah and I still return the words but we don't need marriage to prove it."

"Now, you let me finish. When you left for New York, we said it was only time. And, perhaps, time wouldn't matter but there are other things. I find that I don't like having to share you during those short visits to town. And during my visits to you, I saw how the men in the clubs looked at you. My ring on your finger would tell everyone that while you might play, you're taken. And I wouldn't particularly mind it if you moved back."

Justin blinked up at Brian. "You mean it?"

"Yes. And to hell with whatever people think. I've never really cared what others think. Neither should you. You went, tried your luck and decided that it wasn't for you. Doesn't mean you failed. We marry, you come home, work if you want and work on your art. I know a few agents; we'll talk to them and see what we can do.

"Fuck the opinions of the others. I want to be with you and I want rings on our fingers this time."

Brian barely had time to brace himself before Justin tackled him. "No backing out this time, Sunshine. You have a house to fill up with your art."


	4. The Friends

A/N: Apparently the key to healthy fanfic writing is to be gainfully employed. Got a job (finally, after nearly a year of not working) and banged this out in a couple of days. Also, should you come across any really weird typos, I do write most of my chapters on my phone and, even though I obsessively edit, I don't catch everything.

* * *

Cynthia Moore guarded the bathroom door, keeping track of Blondie and Pipsqueak, her personal names for Lindsey and Michael. She wouldn't put it past the two to rush the door in a chance to talk Brian out of marriage again. She knew Brian counted them as part of his very limited circle of friends but her own theory of friendship meant you promoted and supported your friends and didn't try to push them down.

The first time she'd met Michael, when Brian had still been an assistant copywriter, she'd instantly disliked the man who'd gone out of his way to remind her that Brian was gay. Apparently Michael took the term "work wife" too seriously and she'd walked in on her co-worker seducing whomever too many times to not know. And Blondie, well, she annoyed her solely on personal principals. Something about the waif-ish, woe-is-me attitude Lindsey projected made Cynthia want to smack her or gag. She hadn't made her way to the top by pretending to be incapable.

She always got a quick jolt of pleasure when she said Brian was too busy to take their calls and she'd trained her replacement well. Cari also disliked Pipsqueak and Blondie and seemed to take joy in telling the duo that Mr. Kinney was unavailable.

She and Brian had pushed and pulled each other up the corporate ladder, an endeavor that had paid off as she was now the COO of Kennetik. They'd started at the agency on the same day, sitting together at the back of the orientation room, making snide remarks about their fellow trainees. Being in each other's suit jacket pockets meant she'd gotten to know her boss fairly well. Thus, she knew that when he informed her that she was to inquire if he wanted to take Justin's calls instead of the normal, he's in a meeting but I can take a message speech that Justin was different with a capital D.

And, unlike Blondie and Pipsqueak, Justin didn't complain when Brian needed to pull all-nighters to put together campaigns. Most often he'd wait for Brian to show up at the loft. He'd feed the man something before they worked those calories off. Sometimes, however, he'd kept himself on stand-by, slouched in a corner of Brian's office, ready to make food, coffee or tampon runs. He also understood advertising and that was a plus. They'd been able to bounce ideas off someone of the target demographic.

Also, Brian was nicer to the staff who hadn't had years to grow immune to his ways when Justin was around. That was reason number two she'd plotted with Justin to arrange this event. Reason number one was that she wanted her quasi-brother to be happy and Justin was the path to that happiness. So, she stood outside the door, eyeing Blondie and Pipsqueak as if daring them to just try it.

By God, she was going to see Brian married by the end of the day or there would be hell to pay. She'd plotted with Justin over this crazy scheme from the first day he'd approached her. She'd been the one to rope Ted and Blake into the mechanics of the plot. She'd been the one to drive her moody boss all the way to Vermont in the fucking snow in order to deliver him to his one true love. She'd been the one to risk her neck by sneaking into Brian's loft to liberate the rings from his safe.

If this all went to shit, she'd either be demoted or fired completely. Yes, Cynthia Moore had a lot riding on this wedding actually happening this time.

So focused on Blondie and Pipsqueak, she jumped when Melanie Marcus approached her and handed over a glass of water. Slapping a hand against her chest, Cynthia cast a quick glare at her lawyer. "Next time, make noise."

Melanie was something else she owed Brian for. She knew that the two were like oil and water but when she'd needed legal advice a few years ago, he'd taken her to Melanie. With Brian and Melanie's help, her mother was in a quality long-term care facility with a trust established to pay for her needs and legal protection.

Melanie shrugged and leaned back against the wall. "Sorry. How's your mother? Any trouble?"

"She's been having some really good weeks lately. This new therapy program is helping. There's been no trouble; the others seem to be leaving her alone now that the restraining order is in place. Thank you again for that, by the way."

Melanie shrugged. "That's what the trust pays me to do. I'm glad to hear that she's doing better. Maybe one day, I will be able to speak with her in person."

Cynthia rolled a shoulder. "The doctors say there's some hope in the latest research but actually applying it to patients is a long way off."

Both women lapsed into silence, watching the room as their friends scurried around. Daphne helped the mothers of the grooms to scoot furniture out of the way while Granny Smith directed the affair. Molly buzzed around the room, recording everything on her new camera, an early Christmas present. Ben ran herd on the children while Ted and Blake helped Emmett to set up a simple buffet table. Pipsqueak and Blondie, not helping to set up the nuptials, stood across the room.

Cynthia had to wonder if Blondie's glare was directed at her for guarding the bathroom door or if it was because Melanie was standing next to her.

"So, Ted said you helped to plan this whole thing?"

"Ted's scared of Brian and Justin needed someone who could manage Brian in order to get him up here. I've been managing our fearless leader since our first day at Ryder."

"Why'd you do it? I mean, what's in it for you?"

"A happy, well-fucked Brian is a productive Brian who doesn't scare off three copy writers in a week because he's moody and misses Justin; not that he would actually admit to missing him out loud but, generally speaking, throwing coffee cups because of a silly typo is a good indication."

"How is he not drowning in lawsuits?"

"He's good at charming people, his employees know that the company is raking in the money and we offer a very generous benefits package. If I actually manage to get those two hitched this time, he'll be happier and Justin will be closer in case we need him to head off a nasty mood."

"They don't have to be married in order for that to happen and if you need him to get off in order to get stuff done, there'd be a line around the block just waiting."

Cynthia nodded her head. "Very true on all points. Here's my counter argument. The high he gets from an anonymous ass doesn't last long and he'd need another far too soon and he'd then get no work done. He's a sex junkie; it's like Justin is the purest form of his particular drug and no one else can achieve that high for him. And no, they don't have to be married; Justin could just move back home. They want it and they want it on their terms. However they define their relationship, they are their best selves when they are together. They boost each other's egos beyond what random sex partners can do. Separated, they are strong forces but together they can be unstoppable. Also, at the launch party last June, Brian started growling at the son of our client when the idiot started to flirt, heavily, with Justin. Neither found the idiot attractive and Brian got possessive when the man couldn't take a hint. My hopes are that a ring on Brian's very attractive partner's finger will make other idiots back off before there's growling and threats and the possibility of bloodshed."

Melanie swallowed and looked towards the bathroom door. "I always forget that he's capable of violence."

"He abhors it. You know that when he resorts to violence that he's been pushed too far," Cynthia paused and glanced around before leaning closer. "He donates large amounts of money, and time, to several of the domestic abuse shelters and has taken on the advertising for free."

Melanie blinked and stared at the closed door. "It's hard to think of him as the good guy. He acts like such a jerk most of the time but, every now and then he does a 180 and pulls something extremely generous."

Cynthia nodded. "He's hard to pin down. They've been in there far too long to just be selecting appropriate clothing. Damned men; can't keep their pants zipped for longer than five minutes around each other."

Melanie watched, swallowing laughter, as Cynthia pounded on the door, demanding that they'd better be dressed.

* * *

Lindsey had spent most last night and the morning trying to talk Justin out of marriage. He just seemed to brush away the ideas that New York was his only chance and that Brian would never change or settle into a monogamous married man. He'd actually hissed at her that they were perfectly fine with their polyamorous relationship and to stop whining about him not living her dream of starving New York Artist.

She stood next to Michael, twisting her necklace around her fingers, and stared at the closed bathroom door. Justin had hustled him in there after his talk with the old lady and she was starting to think they weren't going to leave. "It'll never work out. Brian won't change and Justin won't succeed if he's not in New York. Why are men such idiots?"

"Brian Kinney isn't supposed to do marriage or love or monogamy-"

"Polyamory. Justin calls their relationship a polyamorous one."

"Whatever the fuck they call it, it won't work. Everyone wants love and commitment. Just you wait. You'll see, when Brian doesn't change, Justin will leave just like always."

"Soon enough, Justin will go back to New York because that's where he needs to be in order to be a successful artist but Brian can't leave. Gus and the business are here, in Pittsburgh. That would end it."

Beside her, Michael nodded. All those years ago, when Justin had first shoved his way into their lives, Michael had never expected this as the ultimate outcome. If Brian ever reached this point in his life, it should have been with him but somehow the blonde twink had slipped in under the wire. And he'd brought with him all sorts of strange changes.

The man being dragged up the aisle was a completely different creature from the god he'd been at the start of the century and Michael was sure that the change was a bad thing.

"You're both wrong, you know, about Justin and Brian."

Lindsey and Michael jumped, one after the other, and turned to see Justin's little sister standing behind them. "You shouldn't listen into other people's conversations."

"Dude, your own daughter doesn't listen to you; why should I? Besides, it's my brother you two are talking about and he's my business. And you're still wrong."

"What are we wrong about, Sweetie?"

Molly raised an eyebrow at the nickname Lindsey had just bestowed on her. "Don't call me Sweetie. Justin will only ever return to New York for any business trips. He's making Pittsburgh his home base. Even if Brian had said no and fucked off back to Pittsburgh, Justin would still be staying. Half his stuff is cluttering up Mom's spare room and the rest can apparently wait till after the holidays. He's been in town for a week, dragging Mom through rat-infested dives in search of studio space."

"Just because he's moving back home doesn't mean they have to get back together," Michael said.

"Brian has never been able to commit to anything besides having as much sex as possible and making as much money as possible," Lindsey said.

Molly looked between the two. "And here I thought no one could be dumber then Stanley Howard. Those two...they are like a pair of binary stars or something. No matter where they are, there is some sort of gravity between them that pulls them together. Committed to each other or not, polyamorous or monogamous, married or not, it just doesn't matter because they are caught in an orbit around each other and nothing short of a supernova will break that circle. No matter what, they will always be in each other's lives in some fashion."

"You're just a kid; you don't know anything about the real world," Michael said.

"I may only be 14 years, Michael, but I'm not an idiot. Just because someone is a 'kid' doesn't mean they don't see, hear and know things. JR already thinks you're a joke and Gus wants to grow up to have someone like Justin, but a girl-version of Justin. Soon enough, they'll both be old enough to understand what you all say about my brother and brother-in-law. They'll also understand that the marriages of you two are not as strong as they appear. Even when angry and separated, those two were drawn to each other. Can the two of you say the same thing? Now, if you'll excuse me, I need pictures of the grooms," she said before flouncing away to where Cynthia was dragging Justin and Brian from the bathroom.


End file.
